


you fucked us

by stjimmys



Series: sp7 [2]
Category: Sugar Pine 7 RPF
Genre: Guns, Literal Hurt/Comfort, fake pine 7, im not too good at doing the fake crew things rn but ill do my god damn best yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 00:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14842022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjimmys/pseuds/stjimmys
Summary: the first thing james remembered after steven handed over michael jarvis’ business card was feeling the butt of a gun slam into the back off his skull, eyes shutting as he hit the patio beside jason's’ pool. everything was black, nothing felt right now. everything was too much and not enough all at once.





	you fucked us

**Author's Note:**

> so im technically working on a james/jarvis fic right now but i needed to wake up my writing brain to do that, so i wrote this as a warmup? thank god for lucas. i almost made this like a death based thing but yknow what? fuck that. no one dies in my house. anyways enjoy

the first thing james remembered after steven handed over michael jarvis’ business card was feeling the butt of a gun slam into the back off his skull, eyes shutting as he hit the patio beside jason's’ pool. everything was black, nothing felt right now. everything was too much and not enough all at once.

the next thing james remembered was being lifted, carried somewhere. an engine started in the distance. a car door opens, he’s slid onto the seat and lays back, going limp beside someone. the door slams shut. revving, and peeling away from where they were just moments before. 

he couldn’t tell if he was awake or just dreaming all of this. his vision was still dark.

he didn’t wake up until they were back at what james thought was the office.

instead, james woke up, laying across a couch with his head pounding so hard he couldn’t breathe. his eyes opened and he looked around for a moment. his glasses weren’t on his face, instead a foot or so away on the coffee table. he reached, grasping until he found them and shoved them onto his face. he laid back and stared at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. where was he? it didn’t look like the office, really. the couch he was laying on wasn’t the couch from the office. they didn’t have a coffee table at the office, either. turning slightly, james reached back and touched the back of his head. it was swollen, he could tell, and it would be that way for a day or so. it didn’t feel damp, so hopefully no blood. as he opened his eyes back up after flinching at the pain, james came face to face with steven, who was sitting across from him in an armchair. he blinked, not believing that he was actually there. 

james looked at the coffee table again and saw a gun laying against the glass. he blinked a couple times before looking back at steven. 

“you fucked us,” steven spoke up, keeping his eyes on james. “you really did fuck us. you know michael, you know him, james, and you didn’t think to tell us that he was the leader of the worst criminal gang in all of los santos, james? james? james, are you even listening to me right now?” 

james was in the middle of going unconscious again. steven was up almost immediately, crouching beside him on the couch and shaking him slightly. “god dammit, james, just wake up.” 

james snapped back almost immediately, reaching forward and trying to grasp for steven’s shoulders. “steve,” he almost gasped, leaning until he had his forehead against stevens’. neither moved once they made this connection. it didn’t feel right, but it didn’t feel wrong either. it was just okay. 

they stayed silent for quite a while.

 

“james,” steven whispered, not wanting to scare the fuck out of james right now. he seemed more relaxed than he was. “james?”

“yeah, steve, i’m literally right here,” james breathed, keeping his eyes closed. “what is it.”

steven swallowed and pulled away slightly. “james, why didn’t you just fucking talk to me about this? about a side job? about any of it?” he sighed, reaching up and putting a hand on the side of james’ neck. “why didn’t you talk to me?”

james immediately reared back as steven put his hand against his neck, having a form of deja vu. he pulled his arms away and sat back against the couch, looking away from steven. “i don’t. i don’t know why i didn’t tell you, steve. i don’t,” james blinked a couple times, looking towards the door. “no, i do know, but it’s terrifying, steve,” james turned back at steven, who was now sitting next to him now. the gun wasn’t on the table anymore, which he didn’t understand as to why. he shook his head, moving that thought away. “michael, he’s got his card in a million of peoples’ wallets. but if his card is in your wallet, he’s got you, man, he’s gotten jamie ever since we met him! and he got me, i thought nothing of it but i can’t do anything. he’s fucked up and doesn’t give a shit. steve,” james stopped, nearly gasped, and reached for steven again. he didn’t stop him as he grasped his arms, pulling himself until he was pushing his head against steven’s collar. “steve, he’s got me under his fucking thumb and i hate it. i want out but i don’t know how. neither does jamie, neither does anyone else.”

steven sighed and allowed james to lean into him, keeping his arm around james’ shoulders. he could feel him shaking. “james,” steven squeezed james’ shoulder, getting him to lift his head slightly. he kept his eyesight facing forward. “you fucked us,” he could feel james starting to shift away, as if ashamed. steven grasped james’ shoulder before he could move any further. “but you’re going to unfuck us, james. unfuck yourself. unfuck me. unfuck cib, unfuck jeremy and everybody else,” steven reached over and picked up the gun that had been beside him, and held it in his lap. he and james stared down at it for a moment. “just do this now, james. not just for you. but for me too.”

james gave a chuckle before reaching for and grasping the barrel of the gun, pushing his thumb against stevens’ before he let go of the grip and let james hold it in his grasp. “i will, man.”


End file.
